Page 142 of Veil of Death and Shadow

My mouth went dry at the absurd horror of the situation.

If I was bad at sewing, he was downright atrocious.

“Stop.” I took the needle from him, and the bottle, so that I could coat my mouth with a small sip of whiskey. Not enough toimpair me of course, but enough to get the taste in my mouth, to center my nervous system on something sharp and biting so that I could focus on the task and not my own fear.

The first stitch was the worst. My thoughts were attuned to every twitch of his body, acutely aware that it was my hand causing each inflection of pain. I had no fucking clue what I was doing, and I was absolutely terrified that I might make things worse.

But then, I created a mental wall around my emotions—something I was more than used to doing, but had grown sloppy about whenever he was around. This was going to happen, one way or another, and so the best I could do for him was numb my own terror and give it my best shot.

After cutting the third stitch, it got easier—both of us growing accustomed to what to expect. I closed the largest of the wounds as well as I could, then started properly sterilizing the other, smaller ones when I was done. One of them, though much better than the abdomen, also needed a stitch or two, so I got to work on that.

I was vaguely aware of Levi’s eyes on me, but I didn’t let myself look up, wouldn’t let myself get distracted by whatever flash of pain I saw reflected there. Not until I was done.

His head dipped forward, studying my work. “Not bad, Mars. You’re pretty good at this. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I went to the hall closet, returning with a scarf.

Sensing my intent, he leaned forward, and I wrapped his arm and shoulder in the thin material until it formed a makeshift sling. Not amazing, but it would hopefully keep the joint still while he got some rest.

Only after I washed my hands, cleaning up the final traces of his blood beneath my nails and the bathroom sink, did I finally let myself take a full breath.

When I returned, I set a glass of water within his reach, then kept my back to him as I wordlessly climbed out of my blood-soaked clothes and changed into a baggy shirt and pair of sweats.

Trying not to touch him or jostle the bed too much, I crawled over him to the other side of the mattress. I pulled my hair from the tight messy bun I’d had it in while I worked, then fell back against my other pillow, letting the weight of the evening sink from my bones.

Levi grabbed the slim hairband I’d temporarily set on my stomach and started stretching it around his fingers, the silence thick between us.

“I owe you a truth,” he said, voice hoarse, “from that day on the bus.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, trying to fight my way back inside my body, to calm the raging panic that still quivered in my bones.

“But I am worried about it. I don’t like having debts. Ask me a question and I’ll answer it. If I can.”

“Fine,” I said, my voice trembling. “What the hell happened to you tonight?”

He shook his head. “Not that. Ask me something easier.”

I searched for an easier truth, but all the truths that I wanted from him were messy and hard. And right now, what I wanted, even more than the truth, was for him to rest, to get better, to survive. So, I went with the most frivolous thing I could think of. “Was Sora right?”

“About what?”

“The dog park?” I grinned, then sniffed back another threat of tears. “Favorite place in Seattle?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“No?” When I turned to him, his face was so close to mine, our noses just an inch or two from brushing.

“This.” His eyes found mine, the wild storm of grays more subdued now as exhaustion seeped into them. “This is my favorite place in Seattle.”

He shifted slightly, then closed his eyes, settling in for sleep.

I turned off the light, and blew out my candle, easing back into the silence.

Then he added in a low, exhausted mumble, “Nowhere else even comes close.”

It was hours before I finally let myself fall asleep. Instead, I stayed up until the sun greeted me, not moving, barely even breathing.

I watched him, my heart stopping each time his chest deflated with breath, as if that might be the last time.

---